Today’s Hangover:
To whom it may concern, assuming for the sake of formality that there is someone somewhere to whom this may in some technical or ceremonial sense concern, though I would not want to imply that any such person has been identified, notified, invited, excluded, awaited, remembered, forgotten, or placed under any particular obligation to concern themselves with the matter presently beginning to arrange itself into something resembling a statement, I am writing at this early and frankly unpromising stage to introduce, or perhaps to begin introducing, or perhaps merely to gesture toward the possibility of an introduction that might one day become appropriate if circumstances were to gather themselves into a recognizable shape, a matter whose nature remains, for now, broad enough to include almost anything and narrow enough to exclude nothing in particular, which is to say that I have taken it upon myself, without evident authority, audience, occasion, destination, or urgency, to set down these words in the manner of a person preparing to address a committee that has not formed, a reader who has not arrived, a clerk who has misplaced the envelope, or a room whose chairs are still stacked against the wall, and while I understand that an introduction ordinarily precedes something, and that something is often expected to follow, it would be premature, and perhaps even impolite, to suggest that the present remarks are leading toward a conclusion, a request, a clarification, a complaint, a proposal, a confession, a summary, a warning, or any other shaped thing with edges, because the whole character of the present undertaking depends upon remaining gently and continuously before the thing itself, whatever that thing may have been had it chosen to appear, and so I continue in the spirit of preliminary address, not because there is a subject waiting patiently beyond this doorway, tapping its foot and checking its watch, but because doorways themselves have a way of seeming important when one has spent enough time standing in them, adjusting one’s cuffs, reconsidering one’s tone, glancing down the corridor, and wondering whether the proper salutation has already done too much damage to the mood of openness that seemed desirable at the outset, and indeed the outset itself is still with us, still unfolding, still smoothing its papers and clearing its throat, still assuring everyone who may or may not be present that the proceedings will begin shortly, although shortly is a flexible term and proceedings is a generous word for the soft accumulation of clauses now passing before us like carts in a hallway, each one carrying a small load of almost meaning, a folded napkin, a spare hinge, a label without a jar, a key to a cabinet nobody has mentioned, and if I may be permitted to continue before I have begun, I should like to emphasize that nothing contained herein should be taken as final, binding, complete, useful, illustrative, necessary, decorative, actionable, poetic, administrative, or even especially intentional, except insofar as intention may be inferred from the fact that the words keep arriving and arranging themselves with the harmless confidence of chairs being set up for an event whose host has not been born, whose guests have not been invited, and whose purpose remains delicately suspended in the air like dust visible only because a window happened to be open, and in that light, which is not metaphorical unless it must be, I find myself drawn back to the matter of concern, not concern in the anxious sense, though perhaps a little of that has drifted in from the side door, but concern as a formal relation between an address and its imagined recipient, a recipient who, by virtue of being unnamed, becomes almost everyone and therefore almost no one, and this is convenient, because it allows the present statement to proceed without the burden of relevance, and relevance, as many have quietly suspected while pretending to read memos, is often where trouble begins, since once a sentence becomes relevant it may be asked to explain itself, and once it explains itself it may be asked to justify its existence, and once it begins justifying its existence it becomes possible to disagree with it, amend it, file it, cite it, resent it, or remember it at an inconvenient hour, whereas an introductory statement addressed to nobody in particular and committed to arriving without arrival may preserve a certain gentle immunity from these hazards, floating instead in that administrative twilight where the letterhead is crisp, the ink is dry, the envelope is absent, and the signature line has been postponed out of respect for the continuing uncertainty of the occasion, which I admit may not be an occasion at all, but merely the appearance of one caused by the accumulation of formal phrases, each phrase bowing slightly to the next, each next phrase pretending not to notice that no one has taken a seat, and still I proceed, or seem to proceed, although to proceed would imply movement toward a destination and I would rather say that I remain underway in place, like a boat ceremonially launched into a painted harbor, its flags stirring in a breeze supplied by memory, its captain studying a blank chart with the seriousness appropriate to blank charts, and its passengers, who are also hypothetical, expressing moderate confidence that some announcement will be made after the announcement about the announcement has been properly introduced, and it is in that same preparatory spirit that I now turn, without turning, to the larger context, which cannot be described without creating the false impression that there is a smaller context nearby waiting to be compared, and therefore I will simply acknowledge that there may be surrounding circumstances, adjacent considerations, unnamed background elements, inherited assumptions, mild atmospheric pressures, procedural shadows, and several soft noises from another room, all of which may bear upon the present matter if there is a present matter, and if not, may bear upon the absence of one, which is itself a kind of matter for anyone sufficiently patient, sufficiently distracted, or sufficiently obligated by custom to continue reading long after the ordinary lamps of purpose have gone out, and since custom has been mentioned it may be worth observing, without insisting, that many statements begin by situating themselves, by announcing who speaks, on whose behalf, and to what end, but the present statement, having no such luxuries, must content itself with adjusting the curtain, testing the microphone, misplacing the agenda, and offering warm but nonspecific acknowledgment to all parties possibly involved, including those who are not parties, those who are involved only by proximity, those who have been cc’d in spirit without receiving a copy, those who have excused themselves in advance from proceedings that were never scheduled, and those who, upon encountering the opening words, may have hoped for a swift transition into substance, a hope I regret to neither confirm nor deny, since confirmation would imply a substance to transition into, and denial would introduce a firmness of position that seems out of keeping with the soft, indefinite, and faintly overfurnished vestibule in which these remarks continue to linger, and while lingering is not usually considered a form of progress, it has certain advantages, especially when one wishes to avoid the harsh little snap of completion, that tiny closing of a box, that tightening of ribbon around meaning, that moment when someone says there it is and everyone is expected to nod as though the thing had been there all along, waiting under a cloth, when in fact it may be kinder to let the cloth remain undisturbed, to discuss its weave, its corners, the manner in which it falls over whatever shape may or may not be beneath it, and perhaps to draft an introductory memorandum regarding the future possibility of lifting it at some later date, pending review, weather, appetite, available seating, and the emotional readiness of the unnamed concerned parties, and therefore I write on, though write on is an overly dramatic expression for what is mostly a matter of extending the introduction by means of additional introductory material, as one might add a porch to a porch, a preface to a preface, a hallway to a waiting room, a table of contents to a book consisting only of tables of contents, and I do so with the quiet awareness that the beginning has by now become somewhat crowded with beginnings, each one arriving politely with its hat in its hands, asking whether the actual beginning has occurred yet, and receiving no answer, because an answer would be a kind of point, and a point would be a kind of betrayal, and betrayal would be far too lively a development for a document whose highest ambition is to remain inoffensively suspended before the announcement of itself, to be forever almost ready to address the reader it has not found, regarding the subject it has not selected, in the tone it has not quite earned, with the confidence it has borrowed from official stationery, and so, to the extent that any further introductory framing may be useful, or not useful, or useful precisely because it refuses usefulness in favor of a long, mild, paper scented drift through the outskirts of intention, I will merely continue by noting that there are matters to be considered before any matter can be considered, and among these are the circumstances under which a concern becomes concerning, the etiquette of addressing the absent, the proper storage of unsent declarations, the faint dignity of beginning again in the middle of beginning, and the possibility that this statement, though addressed to whom it may concern, may concern only its own continuing effort to remain addressable, unfinished, ceremonious, and gently nowhere, while still finding room for one more qualification, one more prefatory turn, one more courteous delay before whatever was never going to be said has the opportunity to remain unsaid just a little longer,
Monthly Hangovers:
May 2021 Hangovers ―
The final Hangovers that will ever be published. ☞
April 2021 Hangovers ―
So what if my month is humid? I have flowers and shit! ☞
March 2021 Hangovers ―
Lousy Smarch weather. Stupid partly-cloudy sunshine. ☞
February 2021 Hangovers ―
Snow on the bluff like a bad hand of poker. ☞
January 2021 Hangovers ―
Ah, shit. Here we go again. ☞
December 2020 Hangovers ―
Live for the darkness and find joy in the moon’s waning light. ☞
November 2020 Hangovers ―
The twilight of our lives is upon us, awaiting winter’s dusk. ☞
July 2020 Hangovers ―
Grab your beach balls and tiddy books. It’s gonna be a long summer. ☞
May 2020 Hangovers ―
It’s been one year since Frogesay launched! We learned nothing. ☞
April 2020 Hangovers ―
Featuring not only the Weed Day, but the Weed Month! Also plague. ☞
March 2020 Hangovers ―
April showers bring May flowers. But it’s March, so it doesn’t matter. ☞
February 2020 Hangovers ―
Celebrating the numerically meaningless milestone of 2020-02! ☞
January 2020 Hangovers ―
Now that we’re in Blade Runner times, I get to upload my opinions on the Information Superhighway. ☞
December 2019 Hangovers ―
I have finally received the greatest gift I can ask for: infinite rage. ☞
November 2019 Hangovers ―
It’s like bootleg winter but with less cheer and more crotchety old veterans. ☞
October 2019 Hangovers ―
Ignore the previous comment. I’m not done, after all. Not yet! ☞
September 2019 Hangovers ―
I am back, I am SO back, and I already feel done with it. ☞
July 2019 Hangovers ―
It’s the seventh lucky month, and it’s hot, hot, hot! Just like yours truly, of course. ☞
May 2019 Hangovers ―
Feeling a little too alive? Let the tide of Spring whisk you away into your grave. ☞
All my other crap:
Imperfect Vision ―
Froge’s My Little Pony fanfiction, despite all odds, which is actually pretty good. ☞
Solstice Anarchist ―
An unfinished novel draft I created, reflected on, and now publicly shame. ☞
The Forever Failures of the Cult of Self Improvement ―
Taking down the snake oil salesmen, one bad YouTube video at a time. ☞
NFTs are a Failure at Every Single Level ―
Analysing astonishing abuses of speculative technology, like a fag. ☞
The 2020 Frogesay Really Heckin’ Arbitrary Game Awards! ―
What an excellent year to review some of UNDERTALE SUCKS. ☞
4chan: A Song of Kek and Cringe ―
A brief history of 4chan and all the stupid memes within. ☞
Just Another Failed First Chapter ―
Here I reveal to you my greatest sin: making a mediocre novel opener. ☞
Tumblr: A Stupid Written Oral History ―
What is Tumblr? Where do I fit into it? And why was I so gay and horny? ☞
Froge Will Die on May 20, 2021 ―
This post announces my plans for the retirement of the Froge persona. ☞
The Morning After ―
Let’s talk about existential crises! Hooray! ☞
What the Bloody Hell is Google Stadia? ―
It’s not good. But you knew that already, didn’t you? ☞
Japanese Animes: The Icon of Sin ―
The anime community doesn’t suck. You suck. Note that I do not suck. ☞
Sminsmorious Basterds ―
A long, weird, discussion with myself. ☞
Walker Review: Zero Stars ―
A movie in the Criterion Collection that’s as bad as Freddy Got Fingered. ☞
Shazam! Review: One Star ―
Another movie in the DC Cinematic Universe ― oh, it’s dead now. ☞
A Beautiful Mind Review: Two Stars ―
Am I disabled enough for this movie, or do I need to bring out the hammer? ☞
Green Book Review: Three Stars ―
It’s more about black and white than it is green. ☞
Apollo 11 Review: Four Stars ―
The movie, not the spaceship. The spaceship was pretty good, too. ☞
Dark Souls: I Don’t Like It ―
The Dark Souls of reviews about Dark Souls. ☞
Angery About Copyright ―
Someone is WRONG on the Internet, and so I must destroy them. ☞
What Doth Stars Mean? 2? ―
My old reviewing system was bad. I’m replacing it with a new one I’ll never use. ☞
Writing ―
There sure is! Here I talk about how to do that. If you want to. That is. ☞
Fuck Kotaku ―
Fuck Kotaku. ☞
Illegal Streaming: Good For The Soul! ―
Pirates are doing good things for the Internet. You should support them. ☞
Lemon Demon ― Spirit Phone ALBUM REVIEW ―
In which I parody Anthony Fantano and have a little crisis over meme music. ☞
The 2019 Frogesay Still Arbitrary Game Awards! ―
Wanna hear my opinions on 29 different video games? Wanna hear them again? ☞
The 2019 Solstice Recollection! ―
It’s time to brush off the sins of my past through a simple Solstice cleansing. ☞
Froge’s Dissertation on Criticism ―
A long article about my philosophy on being a critic. No, it’s not funny. ☞
Your Violent, Paranoid Delusions will get you Killed ―
Let’s talk about self-defence, and why what you know about it is WRONG. ☞
Hearthstone Sucks and Blizzard are Cunts ―
A polite and reasoned discussion on Blizzard being malicious twats. ☞
Linux: It That Betrays ―
Something broke on my machine, so that means EVERYONE hates Linux now. ☞
I’m Racist Now ―
I’m sorry to all my fans, but I have to come clean: I’m bisexual — I mean I’m racist. ☞
Halloweeny Musings ―
Featuring the inexorable passage of time. And dread. ☞
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off Review: One Star ―
This is a rather silly movie that I didn’t like very much. ☞
Kotaku Sucks my Fat Froge Nuts ―
They actually have cloacas — oh, never mind. Watch me fuck this low-hanging fruit. ☞
Pixar Censors Boobies and that’s Terrible ―
Once upon a time, there was a plastic doll with large breasts… ☞
Putting to Rest an Uneasy Season ―
I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I might as well keep on doing it. ☞
And Here I Am Again ―
It turns out I didn’t write that novel after all. ☞
And Off I Go Again ―
I’m writing another novel. This means I’m not writing here. Oh, the tragedy! ☞
Short Talks on Bad Fandoms ―
Extensive analysis has determined that, yep, this is cringe, bro. ☞
Shaming the HTTP Zealots ―
You would think people who publish on the Internet would know how the Internet works. ☞
Defending Kiwi Farms and Christchurch ―
That’s it! I’m done with the façade! I’m joining the alt-right, RIGHT NOW! ☞
How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World Review: Two Stars ―
That’s a rather long title for a rather short and unremarkable kid’s movie. Which I watched. Somehow. ☞
I Have Come Back to Beg ―
I didn’t end up writing that novel. I’m now writing another one. Yes, I’m serious. ☞
See You Later, Idiots ―
I’m leaving for June. See you in a month! ☞
Froge Finds the Jay Z Song ―
Jay Z makes music. He no longer has to as I found his one and only song. ☞
Fantastic Planet Review: Three Stars ―
The only cartoon to feature dozens of naked ladies while still staying classy. ☞
Alien Review: Four Stars ―
Time to review one of the most beloved science fiction films ever made. ☞
Reddit is a Scourge and must be Purged ―
Froge goes onto the Reddit front page and gets angry at things! He then throws up and cries. ☞
What Does Froge Say? ―
My half-assed “about” page where I explain what has already been explained about my cult. ☞